


No More Filing Cabinets

by MischiefMakingMagpie



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boot Worship, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, I've fallen so far, M/M, Smut, TAKE ME TO CHURCH, rhack - Freeform, sorta AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4329183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischiefMakingMagpie/pseuds/MischiefMakingMagpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He isn't even sure what happened, but suddenly he's on his ass, feeling like he had run into a brick wall, papers flying everywhere like a freaking over sized snow globe.</p><p>He sits on the ground dazed, his mind trying to process what has just happened watching dozens of papers fall to the floor. And then not five feet in front of him is Handsome Jack himself, jaw set tight, eyes narrow and glaring.</p><p>  <i>Oh God…</i></p><p>Rhys had literally just knocked Handsome Jack on his ass.</p><p>This is it, this is how he is going to die.</p><p> </p><p>________________</p><p>Established 'relationship' - Jack/Rhys</p>
            </blockquote>





	No More Filing Cabinets

**Author's Note:**

> I've fallen so far with these two it hurts.
> 
> Just a little fic that's been swimming around in my head, slight AU that takes place during Borderlands 2 if Jack had met Rhys during that time period rather than on Pandora during Tales.

Rhys grunts and gives a half-assed apology to the person he no doubt just ran into. He quickly finds that it is not a person but rather a trash can; which is now on it’s side, contents littering the floor. The alarm to alert the janitor already going off.

He lets out a huff and cautiously attempts to side step the litter, ever watchful of the mountainous stack of papers in his arms.

He doesn't get why he couldn't just email all of this to financial, but Vasquez had insisted that he print out every last spread sheet, record and document for Hyperion’s last business venture. So he had found himself first thing that morning in the copy room spending over an hour trying to get everything printed and organized. He had started off wonderfully, accidentally printing double sided and having to cancel the job and reprint everything he had just done. Halfway through the ordeal the printer had run out of ink and he had spent a good fifteen minutes trying to load the damn thing. Next it had run out of paper and he had to scrounge around the utilities closet to find more. 

Now the reports were close to twenty minutes late and counting, Vasquez is going to have his head for this and no amount of explaining or begging was going to do any good. 

He rounds a corner sharply, his mind filled with sour thoughts about the morning. He isn't even sure what happened, but suddenly he's on his ass, feeling like he had run into a brick wall, papers flying everywhere like a freaking over sized snow globe. 

He sits on the ground dazed, his mind trying to process what has just happened watching dozens of papers fall to the floor. And then not five feet in front of him is Handsome Jack himself, jaw set tight, eyes narrow and glaring.

_Oh God…_

Rhys had literally just knocked Handsome Jack on his ass.

This is it, this is how he is going to die.

The men Jack had been walking with floundered unsure of what to do; hands slightly raised as if to help the CEO to his feet, but no one dare touch him.

Rhys stares at the man across from him gaping; his mouth opens and then shuts, and opens again only to let out a small cracked squeak before shutting again and staying shut.

Jack’s jaw worked; a sharp intake of breath though his nose before he finally speaks.

“Well kiddo, what do you have to say for yourself?” he says surprisingly calm.

That calmness was terrifying.

“I-I ...I uh.” he stumbles over his words what could he say? He doubts that it would matter that he and Jack have had a running ‘arrangement‘ for that past month or so. He had royally screwed up this time.

“Well spit it out!” Jack hisses, the men standing around him shifting uncomfortably.

“I uh, I’m sorry?” what else could he say? Maybe he could beg, Jack liked that sometimes.

The masked man stares at him for a moment, his expression unreadable; and then he begins to laugh. That horrible angry, oh you fucked up and now I’m going to shove you out the airlock laugh. He gets to his feet continuing to laugh as Rhys watches in fear as the other man towers over him. Then the laughing abruptly stops.

“Get up.” Jack snarls lowly.

Rhys scrambles to his feet faster than he thought possible; Jack was not a man that liked to repeat himself.

Immediately Jack’s hand shoot out and grabs his tie, pulling him forward; the fabric constricting around his neck and he lets out a strangled noise.

“Shut up!” the man barks and bats away the hand that comes up to try and loosen the taut material. 

Jack pulls him closer into his space and Rhys is sure he could feel the heat coming off of him.

“You're coming with me.” he says lowly before snapping up to address his company. “We’re finishing this later!”

One of the men waivers and then goes to open his mouth.

“You better think think twice before anything comes out of your freakin’ mouth.” Jack interjects, his tone deadly.

The man quickly shuts up.

“Let’s go!” 

Rhys is yanked forward harshly; the CEO’s grip unrelenting as he pulls the taller man down the hall.

“And get somebody to clean up that friggin’ mess!” Jack shouts back at the gaggle of shocked businessmen still standing around Rhys‘ paper fiasco.

_______

 

Rhys stumbles into Jack’s office after a particularly harsh shove through the doors. He hears the doors slam shut and Jack’s booted feet against the shinny marble floors; he dare not look behind him. 

He waits for the older man to grab him again, staring down at the floor awaiting whatever punishment that was going to be doled out but...

Jack walks around him and Rhys chances a look up. 

He seemed...relaxed? 

And then Jack laughs and wanders over to his desk, lazily pulling out his plush office chair and plunking down in it, spinning in it slowly.

Rhys stands in confusion, he wasn’t sure what was going on. Was he going out the airlock or not?

“Ah, you shoulda seen the look on your face cupcake.” Jack chuckles, spinning coming to a halt as he leans against his desk.

“I’m sorry, I’m a little confused, are you going to space me or not?” he questions, realizing that questioning Handsome Jack wasn’t probably not the wisest decision, especially in his current situation.

“Why you want me to?”

“N-no!” he bristles.

“That’s what I thought. Now Rhysie you really saved me back there, do you know how god awful being in the same space station with those guys is? Let alone have a meeting with them. I mean I can’t kill em‘ they actually...do stuff. But god!” Jack leans back and then props his feet up on the desk .

Rhys didn’t know what to say; he had knocked Jack on his ass in front what sounded like some very important people, and he was being thanked for it?

“Uhhh, you’re welcome?” he replies.

“Now don’t think you’re off the hook, I’m mean you’re totally still gonna get it for the pile up you caused.” Jack adds nonchalantly.

_Oh…_

“What were you doing with all that paper anyway? You know that stuff comes from tree’s, you trying to kill all the tree’s on Pandora kiddo? Tree killer.” did Pandora have tree’s? It had to...did their paper supply come from Pandora? “I mean what you probably took out like fifty trees in one fell swoop.”

“Vasquez asked for hard copies.” Rhys states, crossing his arms.

“What wallet head? good god! What did I tell him about fucking filing cabinets, wastes of space an' time...an’ effort...” Jack trails off scowling.

“I tried to get him to let me email over everything.”

“Yeah, yeah kitten I get it he’s an idiot, you’re less of an idiot, now come here.”

Rhys stiffens for only a moment before cautiously approaching the large desk, stopping in front of it apprehensively.

“Ah, ah all the way around cupcake.” Jack beckons him and he quickly scuffles around to stand before the older man.

Even with Jack seated he still feels so small.

“Now you really messed up, I don’t think I’ve been knocked that hard on my ass in a long time. Hell might even have bruises; and Rhysie, that is not the way I want to get bruises on my ass.” 

Rhys swallows thickly and gives a slow nod.

“And I think you owe me an apology, whaddya think cupcake?” a sly, cruel smile spreads across Jack’s lips.

“Yes sir...” Rhys says softly under his breath.

“I’m sorry what was that?” Jack’s voice has an underlying threatening tone that meant business and Rhys certainly doesn't want to press his luck.

“Yes sir.” he squares his shoulders and looks the man straight in the eyes.

“That’s what I thought.” Jack snaps his fingers and points to the ground at his feet. “Down.”

Rhys falls to his knees, all the while watching the CEO as he lowers himself.

His gaze flicks down the man’s belt and the slight bulge forming beneath the zipper. He wets his lips, moving to undo Jack’s buckle. A booted foot comes to rest none too gently against his sternum.

“Ah, ah kitten, you don’t get that yet.” Jack gives him a shove and he falls on his ass, looking up at man in confusion. Jack then points to his boots.

“Clean ‘em.” he says through a cruel smile.

“What?” the question tumbles out before he can stop himself.

Jack frowns and leans forward, hands on his knees.

“I didn’t stutter did I?” he snarls lowly.

“No...”

“Didn’t think so.” he leans back again, hands behind his head as he waits.

Rhys hesitates for only a second before scooting closer and lowering himself. He glances up, Jack’s brows arching as if to say get on with it. He leans down the last few inches on his hands and knees, lips brushing against the worn leather.

“That’s it kitten.” Jack practically purrs at him.

Even that small amount of praise was enough to fuel him and he slowly licks a stripe up the side of the man’s boot. He briefly wonders how much blood Jack has on these things and it was almost enough cause to pull away, but the sound of Jack’s throaty groan had him coming back for more.

As he continued, he grew bolder, nipping and laving well loved leather; he can't say that he loved it, but it isn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. He switches to the other boot, giving it just as much attention; when he dares to look up at Jack, he is greeted with the CEO’s intense stare, his jaw tense. Staring up at the man he runs his tongue slowly up the front of the boot, only bite down on the material when he reaches the top, tugging at it gently.

Jack groans and then Rhys finds himself being dragged up by his hair, emitting a soft sound of surprise and pain. Though it was quickly silenced as Jack smashes his lips against his own, shoving his tongue past the younger man's teeth. 

Rhys tries to keep up with the savage kiss, slightly disoriented, but before he could really gain his bearings Jack pulls away with a snarl. Held in place by the unrelenting grip on his hair Jack gives him a toothy smile, hand moving down to palm at his now very obvious erection tenting the front of his pants.

“What do you think cupcake.” he husks.

Rhys watches through hooded mismatched eyes as Jack thumbs his belt buckle.

“You want this?” he hisses as he squeezes himself through the denim.

Rhys manages a weak nod through the iron grip.

“Words.” Jack tskes 

“Yes, I want it.” his voice sounding slurred and slow to his ears.

“I’m sorry what is it that you want?” the older man goades wickedly.

He love and hates when Jack does this and he gives a small whine; one that he would never admit to.

“Want your cock.” he breathes.

Jack grins at this, his hand releasing Rhys’ hair.

“Have at it kiddo.” 

Rhys’ hands are immediately at the man's belt, fumbling with the buckle and finally tearing it open as the CEO laughs at his eagerness.

Jack raises his hips just enough for the younger man to pull his pants and boxers off his hips, allowing his cock to spring free and rest against his clothed stomach. Quickly Rhys scoots forward and runs his nose up the underside of the man’s cock earning a hiss and hand in his hair. 

He mouths at the heated flesh, nipping softy at the shaft. Rhys likes to tease and it quickly earns him a harsh painful tug to his hair, Jack growling a warning at him. With one last nip he moves to tongue at the flushed head before enveloping it in the wet heat of his mouth. 

Jack groans above him, his other hand moving to back of Rhys’ head, pressing for him to take more. 

Rhys steels himself, hollowing out his cheeks, taking more of Jack with each thrust of the man’s hips until his nose presses up against coarse hair, cock down his throat. He swallows around Jack and the man above him moans and grips his hair tighter. 

“Oh yeah pumpkin, that’s it.” Jack hisses at him moving to grip the sides of his head, thumb rubbing against his ECHO port causing him to shiver.

Jack begins a harsh rhythm, fucking into Rhys’ hot mouth and all the younger man can do is take it, spit dripping down his chin.

A booted foot presses against his groin and Rhys moans and bucks into it, desperate for any sort of friction on his hard cock.

He’s yanked back suddenly mouth wide as he gasps for air, and Jack is on him almost immediately, all teeth and tongue. And then he’s being pulled to his feet, Jack’s mouth still in his until he’s spun around, the jut of hips pressing painfully into the polished wood of the CEO’s desk.

He hears Jack pushing his pants down lower and then large calloused hands are at the front of his slacks working the fabric open and shoving them down his legs along with his boxers. he feels hand come to settle at the back of his neck, pushing him down against the desk and Jack's feet kick his legs open as far as they’ll go with his pants still restricting his legs.

“Look at you.” Jack hisses at him and he hears a familiar drawer opening. “You just fucking want it so bad.” the sound of bottle being uncapped and then seconds later lube coated fingers press against is entrance. “Don’t you?”

He knows that Jack won't give him anything until he answers, and it better be good.

“Yes...” he breathes out and then adds. “I want it so bad, please Jack.”

He knows Jack is smiling at that.

“That’s a good boy.” he feels two fingers being pressed into him and he tries to force himself to relax.

Jack’s free hand comes to rest between his shoulder blades.

“Not gonna get very far if you don’t relax cupcake.” the older man grits out.

“‘M trying.” Rhys replies with a small whine when Jack twists his wrist, fingers barely brushing his prostate.

“Try harder.” Jacks fingers retreat only to thrust back into him as the CEO begins a harsh rhythm.

Soon Rhys is drooling and panting, forehead pressing into the crook of his flesh arm. He lets out a shaky moan as Jack’s fingers hit his prostate again, his hips bucking forward, the head of his cock uncomfortably brushing the underside of the desk.

“Jackkkk.” he whines and earns himself a throaty chuckle.

“Whaddya want pumpkin?” Jack asks and grinds his cock against the back of Rhys‘ thigh.

“Come on...” Jack’s fingers retreat and he earns a shape slap on his flank; he yelps. 

Then Jack is yanking his head back, and hissing in his ear.

“Ask nicely.” he grinds out.

The younger man lets out a whimper.

“Please, Jack, please, please, please...fuck me.” he doesn’t care anymore; he doesn’t care if he was begging; he needs it. 

Jack bites the nape of his neck harshly and Rhys knows he'll have marks. He hears the sound of the bottle of lube being uncapped again and then Jack is murmuring against his skin. 

“Been a good boy, asking so nicely.” Rhys feels the blunt head of Jack’s cock pressing against his stretched hole. “Such a good boy.” and then Jack is sliding into him, teeth latching onto the back of his neck. 

Rhys cries out, not caring if everyone on the whole fucking station can hear him; if feels so good, Jack’s teeth on his neck, his bruising grip on his hips, cock filling him to the brim. 

Finally Jack bottoms out and the older man stills for a moment before pulling back and thrusting roughly back in.

“Oh yeah babydoll.” Jack hisses against his skin as he continues to piston in and out of the younger man.

Rhys tries to keep up, meeting Jack’s thrusts until the CEO places a hand against the side of his face and pushes him completely against the desk, cheek bone painfully digging into the wood. 

The older man is in complete control and he thrusts roughly into the taller man below him all the while uttering praises, insults and curses.

“Oh fuck babydoll, you like that don’t you, laying out for me like a goddamn whore.” Jack hisses out through gritted teeth, his pace becoming brutal.

“Ahh, yes, fuck, Jack.” Rhys puffs out between thrusts, he can feel his orgasm approaching quickly and he reaches down to fist his cock.

His hand is quickly batted away.

“Ah, ah princess you know the rules.” Jack chides with a cruel breathless laugh.

Rhys whines but places his hand back on the desk. 

It didn’t take long for Jack to lose his rhythm, desperate to reach his finish. The palm pressing into the side of his face only presses harder as the older man races to meet his orgasm. 

“Oh fuck pumpkin, gonna fill you up, you're gonna fuckin' love it too, my cum in your ass.” Jack is so close he can almost taste it.

“Please, fuck Jack fill me up...” and that’s all it takes, he snarls and groans; hips pressing tightly against Rhys’ ass as he comes, hips jerking.

Finally coming down from his high, hips giving one last jerk Jack sighs in satisfaction.

Rhys feels the pressure of the man’s hand leave his face and he works his sore jaw.

“Your turn kiddo.” Jack’s calloused hand wraps around his ridged cock and he gasps and moans as the other man sets a brutal pace in his almost too tight grip.

He tries to grip at the desk, finding little purchase, hoping that the papers he's crumpled and drooled on aren't too important.

His orgasm hits him like a fucking train and he comes with a wrung out cry, hips jerking, fucking up in to Jack’s hand.

When the last of his finish finally washes over him Rhys slumps against the desk, boneless. Jack laughs behind him, his hand leaving his cock, coming up to wipe his cum on his shirt. He hates when Jack does that, he is starting to run out of shirts, it doesn’t matter if Jack always has a spare for him in the office because that one is going to wind up ruined as well. 

Rhys whines and bats the hand away, shakily bringing himself to his elbows. Flesh hand coming up to smooth back his hair knowing that it most likely did nothing to flatten the once perfectly styled locks. He manages to turn himself around, leaning against the desk for support. Jack is already securing his pants around his hips again when he pauses and starts to laugh.

“Look at you pumpkin! fuckin’ wrecked!” Rhys pouts and gingerly moves to pull up his pants. 

“Yeah well...” he isn’t even sure how to finish his sentence, wincing as he felt some of Jack’s finish trickle down his leg. He is going to have to take care of that later.

“Simmer down cupcake.” Jack chuckles and bends to open the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a neatly folded shirt and hands it to Rhys.

The taller man continues to pout but accepts the shirt and begins to change out of his ruined one.

Jack plops back down into his chair.

“Oh yea and those reports.”

Rhys pauses in buttoning up the shirt, tensing.

There was _no fucking way_ Jack is going to make him reprint those.

“Calm down kiddo, just email the damn things.” at that the taller man releases a breath, it still doesn't change that fact that they are late.

“Still gonna be late.” he mumbles as he fiddles with the sleeves of his borrowed shirt. 

Jack shrugs.

“Tell wallet head to shove it in his wallet; also, tell him to stop killing trees, I don’t want any more filing cabinets.” 

Rhys snorts at this as he straightens his vest out.

“So...” he ventures after a second. “Does this mean I’m off the hook?”

“Whaddya want cupcake a note signed Handsome Jack? yea you’re off the hook.” Jack scoffs before leaning forward, grabbing him by his belt loops and pulling him away from the desk. “Off you go, you got shit to do.” and he gives Rhys a hearty slap on the ass as soon as the man’s back is turned to him.

Rhys yelps and scowls over his shoulder before marching out of the office, Jack’s laughter following him until the door shuts behind him.


End file.
